Let Me Clean Your Wounds
by achillespelides
Summary: Simon's trying to study, but when an injured Baz comes stumbling through the door, he gets a better idea. Snowbaz smut


Note: Simon does not have wings and a tail in this fic. They'd just get in the way ;)

 **SIMON**

This essay is killing me. I thought fighting the Humdrum was difficult, but Mr. Mellows is a much fiercer force. He teaches my British Literature class at uni and the amount of work he assigns is ungodly. I mean, Crowley, how is it even physically possible to write a 10 page paper in 3 days? That's just inhumane.

I'm only on page 2 when someone starts knocking on the door. Penny isn't home to answer it, so I take a deep breath, place my laptop on the coffee table, and stand up. The knocking turns to banging, and I get a little nervous. Without my powers, I've been pretty much left alone by magical creatures for the past few months. But I suppose someone could still be after me. Just to be safe, I grab an umbrella from the closet and hold it like a bat as I turn the knob.

The door swings open. I raise my umbrella in preparation then drop it as Baz collapses into me.

"Finally, Snow," he says, leaning on me for support. "What took you so long?"

"Baz, what's wrong?" I ask, holding onto him and dragging him to the couch. His leg looks broken. There's blood splashing his shirt, though that could technically be from hunting. But something tells me it's his own. "Merry Morgana, what happened to you?" I ease him down on the couch and he lets a groan escape (something I know he's not proud of; he hates showing weakness). I sit down next to him and lift his head into my lap. Despite his obvious pain, he smiles a little bit. I stroke his forehead softly, waiting for him to answer. "Well?"

"I'm fine, Snow. Just a little beaten up."

"I can see that."

He gives me the death glare. "I was coming home from class and all of the sudden these Magneys swarmed me."

"Magneys?" I scoff. Magneys are vicious little things; just like wasps, except much more powerful. They're ridiculously strong, despite being so small, so that when they sting you, the force of their impact upon your body can literally leave bruises, or sometimes (as I suspect in Baz's case) break bones. Not to mention their stingers are razor sharp. They're a fairly rare species, so I'm surprised Baz had an encounter with them. I've certainly never seen one.

"Yeah, bloody Magneys. Someone must've sent them."

"But who? You don't exactly have enemies anymore."

"And neither do you . . ." Baz furrows his brown in thought, trying to determine who could possibly have sent fucking Magneys after him.

"Well, let's worry about who did what later. Let's get you fixed up."

"I'm fine. I can just cast a healing spell."

"No, come on, Baz -" I pull him up and start dragging him off the couch

"Snow, why? What is this -" he protests.

"Come _on_ " I say, stretching my arms under him and lifting him up bridal style. He squirm in my arms, kicking his legs, 100% against this idea, but I keep my grasp on him. I head towards the bathroom.

"Merlin, what are you doing? Could you put me down?"

"Just let me do this, Basilton, okay?" I say, looking down at his grimacing face. "Let me help you."

Baz doesn't answer. He just groans and mutters something under his breath. I smile at this.

When we reach the bathroom, I set him down and head over to the tub. I stop the drain and turn the hot water on.

"A bath? What, am I five?" Baz raises an eyebrow.

I walk towards him and wrap my arms around his waist, careful not to put a lot of pressure on his skin, and press my nose against his. "I want to fix you up, Baz. Let me clean your wounds," I whisper in as seductive of a voice as I can muster. By the look of pure amusement on his face, I can tell I haven't exactly succeeded.

"You've been watching too much television."

"Perhaps. But-" I plant a quick, gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. He inhales sharply as I pull away. "I've definitely learned a lot of . . . . interesting things. If I were you, I'd get in that bathtub."

I don't think I've ever seen Baz undress faster.

He practically rips off his clothes, his eyes remaining locked on mine as he sheds them off. Now looking at him naked, I can see the damage. He's too close to me to fully assess, but I can see the sting marks covering his body. Bright red scars crusted over with dried blood. There are a few bruises, too, from where the Magneys must have rammed into him. "Come on," I say, taking his hand and walking him over to the bathtub.

He steps in, careful with his injured leg, and pulls me towards the edge of the tub. "Your turn," he whispers, unbuttoning my shirt for me as I work on my trousers. With our clothes piled on the floor, I climb into the bath after him and help him sit down. He makes a noise of discomfort as the hot water touches his skin, but eventually settles in.

 **BAZ**

The hot water burns my skin but I sit down anyways. Snow comes in after me, sitting behind me, straddling me. I can feel him against me, pressing into my back. I sigh and lean back into him. "I already feel better," I breathe, despite the fact that the stings are still searing and my bruises ache.

"As do I," he says, pressing his mouth against my neck. He kisses me softly there before pulling away. Seconds later, his soft hand is on my shoulder, massaging it, as his other hand uses a sponge to clean the blood off of my back. I bite down on my lip, the soap stinging the wounds, but try not to wince noticeably. I hate it when Snow sees me weak.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yes. Good."

"Let me know if I hurt you," he adds, moving the sponge down my back. His other hand continues to massage my skin, making me tingle and shiver in the warm tub.

When he's finished with my back, he asks me to turn around. He then works his way down my chest, his eyes focused on the small wounds covering my abdomen. I watch as his brow furrows in concentration; he's so dedicated to helping me. It's adorable.

I brush his hair out of his eyes and rub my thumb over his forehead. He smiles, but doesn't stop working. The wounds burn each time he puts the sponge against them, but the pain feels like nothing when I have this beautiful boy to look at.

 **SNOW**

When I finish cleaning him up - there were 52 stings in total! - I set the sponge down and reach my hand across to him. He takes it, kisses it, and then squeezes it. "Feel better?"

"Much," he responds, a devilish grin on his face. "So much so, in fact, that I think I now have the energy to do this." He stretches his body on top of mine, pressing me further into the water so that I'm lying in the tub. His mouth devours mine and I moan against him. My hands reach up to explore his body, running down his chest and arms as his hands cling to my face and neck.

I slide my leg around his, trying to get closer to him. I feel him against me: his flesh, his muscles, his bones. His warmth fills me up inside and I sigh against his lips.

His mouth moves away from mine and starts to travel the length of my skin. He kisses my neck, my collarbone, my chest, my stomach. His hands move down the length of my body and I have to clutch the sides of the bathtub to stay in place. My hips rise up automatically, reaching for him, as his lips travel lower and lower. He looks up at me and smiles, winks. I scoff and tilt my head back, close my eyes, and drown in the ecstasy.

 **BAZ**

When we're done, we lay in the bathtub, curled against each other. My leg is killing me, but I don't even care. Everything feels perfect right now. Simon's head is against my chest and I play with his hair, stroking it back. His fingers trace figures on my skin. It's bliss.

"Thank you," I whisper, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"It was my pleasure," he murmurs. I can tell he's tired.

There's a loud knocking on the door and I roll my eyes. Bunce. Killing the moment, as usual.

"Simon, finish up! I need to shower! Micah's picking me up in 40 minutes!" she yells. Oh. She doesn't know I'm here. I smirk at Snow and I can tell he's fighting off a laugh.

"Give me a minute, Penelope. I'm almost done!" he calls back, sitting up. I do the same, standing up (with his help - my leg's still practically useless) and reaching for a towel. I wrap myself in one and he does the same. "Time for the walk of shame," he sighs, reaching for the door.

Penelope is standing outside, clutching a towel and bathrobe. When she sees Simon come out she reaches for the door, anxious, but jumps back at the sight of me. "Oh! Baz . . you're . . . here," she gasps, looking between me and Simon frantically. Simon chuckles, but I manage to keep a straight face. I love fucking with Bunce.

"Indeed I am," I smirk, stepping out of the room and walking casually towards Simon's bedroom.

"Seriously?" Bunce whispers to Simon, but of course I still hear it.

"He was injured. I was just, um, cleaning him up," Snow mumbles, obviously embarrassed. Penelope huffs and steps into the bathroom, exasperated.

"Come on, Snow. The bed awaits," I call.

"I should really work on my essay . . . "

"Fine. I'll just wait in your bed. Alone. In pain. Naked."

Snow practically runs towards me.


End file.
